


A Curse By Any Other Name

by viridianmort



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Character Death, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Eventual Smut, Forced Marriage, Gratuitously hot Tom Riddle, Human Sacrifice, M/M, Mentions of Drowning, Mentions of child neglect, Slow Burn, gods and mortals, inspired by Bride of the Water God manhwa, kind of, snake face Voldemort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-18 23:10:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20647247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viridianmort/pseuds/viridianmort
Summary: A sacrifice. That was all Harry was meant to be. Harry grew up hearing the legends of the gods, especially one in particular. Lord Voldemort, the water god, had always blessed their village with rain to water their crops and fill their lake. Except, it stopped raining. For a year, their fields were dry and when the lake began to visibly diminish, there was only one thing to do. Fifty years ago, Lord Voldemort granted the villager's pleas for rain once they sent one of their own to him. This time, it would be Harry. Luckily or unluckily, his fate was not to be eaten by the god as he thought it would be, but rather to be his husband. There were only a few things wrong. First, Lord Voldemort didn't have a nose. Second, his brother Tom, who Harry seems to always stumble into at night, does have a nose. A very nice one. Third, both of them are rude and horrible, but Harry can't help but like them anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first chaptered fic and of course I'm doing it for the Tomarry Big Bang. Go big or go home I guess. This is heavily inspired by Bride of the Water God, if you have not read it, it doesn't matter, but it's great so I suggest you do. Of course the plot will greatly deviate later on so it really does not matter at all if you read it or not. Tags may be updated as I go. Hope you enjoy the first chapter!

_ My world continues to fall in ruins around me. I keep looking for you, but you are no longer by my side. Again and again you are ripped away from me. Again and again I must look into your heart and remind it that it is mine. Like a curse worse than any other, we can never, never be at peace. If I did not need you I would have simply let you die without a thought, but I need you. We were not destined. There is no red thread to tie your fate to mine. There is no prophecy spoken only for the two of us. I simply held you in my hands and decided to never let go. _

~~~

Light sparkled on the surface of the lake, catching Harry’s eye as his boat floated along. It was beautiful. As a child, Harry often played by these waters when he could get away from his duties at home.It was called the Black Lake, after it's deep dark waters. Simple, but apt. 

Ripples spread out around his vessel as it glided through the water. Harry stared after them blankly, trying to find solace in the mesmerizing sight. Each ripple pushed away the one before it and Harry tried to keep track of one until it disappeared. It was a little game to pass the time, until the inevitable. If there were some rocks, Harry could have entertained himself with his usual habit of skipping stones, but all the rocks were left behind with his family and his life. He wouldn’t need any of them where he was going.

_ I'm alone now. _

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he had such a fate. He could have been anything, done anything except take the throne. All he could be now was a sacrifice for a cruel god. To drown and die was the price to be paid for his village to have rain again. He would die so they could live. His mortal flesh, a meal for the Water God. He wasn’t even supposed to be the one! 

_ It’s not supposed to be me. It’s supposed to be— _

The boat came to an unnatural stop at the dead center of the lake. Harry’s breath caught in his throat as everything seemed to go still. The water ripples stayed in place, all birds stopped mid-song, a leaf floating on the wind stayed stationary in the air. Time appeared to have frozen in that one moment. 

_ Please. _

Quick like a viper’s strike, the lake water shot into the air. Each droplet glistened like gems in the sunlight that shone through them. 

_ Please. _

Water rushed and swirled around Harry and his boat, slowly pulling him under the surface and down into the depths of the lake. He was being swallowed up.

_ Please. _

Harry tried to hold his breath, but it was too late as the water crashed down around him. He was surrounded. The pressure in his chest grew and his lungs  _ burned _ . 

_ Help me. _

Water flooded into his mouth and nose and lungs. His legs kicked and flailed, trying to fight his way to the surface. To air. 

_ Which way is up? Which way— _

There was no escape. He felt so heavy, so very heavy. It felt like he was being dragged down. Down, down down. The water was so dark and he couldn’t see. 

_ Anyone, please help me. Save me. _

After what felt like hours, but must have only been a few minutes of struggling, Harry’s consciousness began to fade and his limbs fell limp. Without his frenzied thrashing his body just sank faster.

_ I don’t want to die. _

~~~

"The mortal will be here soon. It has been some time since the last one, has it not?" Lucius finished writing his letter with a flourish. His name was signed at the bottom in elegant calligraphy, truly a testament to his artistic skill with a quill.

His sallow faced acquaintance who stood pensively by the window looked up curiously. "Our lord has been sent a new sacrifice? Why have you not told me sooner, Lucius?"

Lucius exhaled through his nose in one quick breath and sealed the envelope with some blue wax. "You have been in the Fire Realm and only just returned. When would I have found the time to tell you?" 

"You could have written it in a letter," retorted the other man.

"Severus," Lucius paused to consider whether he should say the next words or not. He figured there was little chance of success at placating his friend and he was becoming annoyed at his behavior anyway. "Our lord specifically told me to keep it private."

"So he does not trust me."

Lucius pushed back his chair and walked over to Severus. "It is not that. You know the Fire Realm is ravenous for any sort of information on our current affairs. He has reason to be cautious." 

There was no lie in what he had said. The Fire realm had always been at feud with the Water realm. It was no secret that they constantly antagonized each other.

"Cautious about what exactly? A mortal in our realm?" Severus bit out. “They die faster than we can blink and have no power. As if any sane deity would target a  _ mortal _ .”

Lucius rested his hand gently on Severus' shoulder. "You know how he is. It is not anything personal against you, do not take it so. He trusts you enough to send you to the Fire Realm in his stead. Do you not think that is worthy of consideration far more than this petty matter?" He had known Severus to be mildly obsessive over being informed of things, but Lucius had not expected such bitterness from him. Surely he understood their lord’s intentions were not to snub him? Though Severus had always had an issue with pride.

"Alright,” Severus sighed and Lucius was relieved. “I will let it go. I assume you need to prepare for the arrival?"

"Yes, I will need to make sure the sacrifice is presentable to our lord."

"Hurry along, then."

~~~

Harry spluttered up water as he regained consciousness and frantically breathed in cool crisp air through hacking coughs. Rivulets of water streamed down his bare back and his usually wild hair stuck to his skin.

Someone spoke from above him, "Is this a sacrifice for a god or a drowned kitten?"

Harry scrambled to his feet, heart pounding wildly in his chest. Where was he? He thought he had—

“Are you quite done?” impatiently asked a man’s voice.

Harry looked to the source, squinting. A tall figure stood before him with blond hair and pale skin. Surely this man... “Are… are you Lord Voldemort?”

“No. My name is Lucius Malfoy and I am our Lord’s advisor.”

_ Oh. _

“I thought… Have I died yet?” Harry asked quietly.

Lucius gave him an evaluating look. “You are neither dead… nor are you alive in the sense of living in the mortal plane.”

“I suppose that makes some sense…” Harry mused. If he was not yet dead, then where exactly was he? It felt so real when he was drowning. Harry thought he wouldn’t have woken up again. But he had. 

“If you do not have any more questions, I must prepare you for our Lord including giving you some appropriate attire,” Lucius sniffed.

“What is wrong with my—” Harry stiffened. In horror, his eyes fell on his unclothed form. No wonder he didn’t feel dragged down by wet garments. He was as naked as a newborn. Harry’s hands dashed to cover his hanging privates, cheeks burning. Slowly, he raised his head to look at Lucius, completely mortified. “Where are my clothes?”

Lucius gave him an unimpressed stare. “This is the realm of the gods. Mortal things have no place here.”

  
  


“Oh. But I am… mortal.” Harry mumbled.

“Exactly.”

Harry felt shame and anger flare through him. “If I have no place here then let me return home.”

“Don’t be daft. As if you could go back without our Lord's blessing. Now stop wasting time,” said Lucius coldly before swiftly turning and heading towards the castle.

“Wait! What about my glasses? I can’t see without them!”

Harry scrambled after Lucius, hands still covering his genitals, wincing every time he felt his balls swing in the breeze. At least he’d be dead very soon and won’t have to deal with this nightmare any longer. 

“You mortals and your many weaknesses,” scoffed Lucius.

A snap of the man’s fingers and Harry felt a familiar weight on his nose. He blinked a few times in surprise at the feat, as well as his returned clear sight. “Wow! That was like magic!”

“That  _ was _ magic, foolish boy.”

Lucius stopped in front of a set of doors and Harry who was too distracted by his newfound sight bumped into him. 

“Sorry,” he apologized right as he was promptly shoved inside before he had much of a chance to look at where they were. 

Harry stumbled into what appeared to be a bathroom with a large pool—for with its size it could only be called a pool—of water in the middle. 

“Bathe yourself,” commanded Lucius. “I am sure you know how?”

So far his time in the realm of gods was just being degraded for being human. Just watch them try to survive as mortals. See how hard it was without their powers. Harry muttered some choice words under his breath. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Lucius stared at him for a long moment. His gaze was uncomfortably piercing and Harry felt like he was being flayed open. “You will be dressing in those robes right there,” he said, pointing to some very decorated robes hung up away from the bath. 

“They’re rather… eye-catching aren’t they?” Harry eyed the robes with reluctance. They looked far too expensive for his taste.

“Is there an issue?” 

Harry answer with a shake of his head and waited for Lucius to leave, but instead the man just stood there. Did he think Harry was going to run? 

"Do you need assistance to bathe?" Lucius drawled impatiently.

"N-no! Not at all!" Harry stuttered out, turning towards the bath. Privacy was just too much to ask for when you’re about to die, he mused. He didn’t know whether to be afraid or take comfort in the fact that it would be over soon.

Lucius cleared his throat and Harry jumped into action. He’d better do as he’s told or his torture would be made worse. 

As he stepped down into the pool, the warm water seemed to magically wash away his aches. Harry soon found his body relaxing and set to washing himself. Fragrance oils perfumed the steam that rose off the water with hints of eucalyptus and lavender. At least he’d have this one experience before dying for real. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to have a warm bath, much less one with fragrance oils. At the Dursleys’ home, warm baths were hard to come by for someone like him. Dudley was allowed as many warm baths as he wanted, but Harry… well. Harry was the one to carry and heat the water for him. 

Pausing in his scrubbing, Harry sighed and leaned against the edge of the pool. He wanted to drag it out as long as he could before he had to face the water god, but Harry knew he couldn’t keep him waiting either. Perhaps there was a small part of him that wasn’t ready to die yet. He wanted to live… just a little bit longer. 

~~~

The silk cloth of Harry’s robes swished and rubbed against his bare legs as he walked. They were so soft, better than anything he’d ever touched. Just the quality of the embroidery, though not elaborate in its imagery, was extraordinary. Brightly coloured thread wound around the sleeves in delicate patterns, each stitch neat and perfect. It was amazing. 

Harry had never felt so handsome as the moment he looked at himself in the mirror after Lucius wrangled his wild locks into a tight braid. There were curls that escaped here and there, but Lucius admitted rather reluctantly that it added a certain charm. His usual round glasses were resting on his nose as they normally were. Harry could almost pretend everything was normal. He had smiled then, forgetting for just that moment that he was nothing more than a decorated roast pig about to be served. 

Lucius led him down a long wide corridor. His stride was long and swift. Harry had to jog to keep up.

Every step Harry took towards his fate felt like dying.

The corridor came to an end at two large gilded doors. Silver snakes wound themselves in intricate designs all over the door, each with a pair of emerald eyes. Without command or physical disturbance, the doors swung open like the gaping maw of a predator. 

“The mortal has arrived my lord.” Lucius called out and Harry flinched at the word choice.

_ I am mortal. He is immortal. _

Inside, unlit stone torches created a path into the dark hall. Urged on by Lucius, Harry took a deep breath and stepped inside. The heels of the boots he was presented with clicked loudly on the stone floors. As he passed, each torch lit up with an eerie green light. He shivered from the cold chill that settled in his bones the moment he crossed the threshold.

_ Please, please please. _

Harry wasn’t sure what he was begging for. Mercy? Or a quick death?

“Lord Voldemort?” Harry whispered softly, but the sound carried in the empty hall and echoed.

Without warning, he felt a breath puff against the nape of his neck just as spidery fingers with sharp nails curled around his throat and another hand placed onto his abdomen to hold him in place. There was an unnatural lack of warmth from the body behind him, despite it being pressed so tightly to his back.

Harry froze. The tips of the god’s nails scraped his skin as he took in quick shallow breaths. It was like drowning.

_ This is it. This is it. _

“Harry Potter… my mortal sacrifice…”  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here is the second chapter! Enjoy ^^

Harry could barely breathe. Each intake of breath seemed to make Lord Voldemort’s nails dig deeper into his flesh. Was this where he would finally die?

“Such a pretty face… and those striking eyes,” murmured the water god.

Harry gulped, shivering in the deity’s hold. He hoped the god wouldn’t eat his eyes first. Or.. would that be better?

“Are you mute? Certainly they did not send me a disabled sacrifice?”

Harry blurted out, “No! I… I am able to speak.” If Lord Voldemort rejected him as a sacrifice then his town would not get any rain. He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want it at all, but… he needed to help his people. There were people he wanted to protect and in order to do that, he had to die.

Lord Voldemort said nothing, simply released Harry and circled around to stand before him. 

As he came into Harry’s line of sight, a gasp left Harry’s lips before he could stop himself. 

Harry stared as the water god’s mouth slowly stretched into a sadistic grin. His white teeth and pale scaly skin reflected the glow of the green fire. Lord Voldemort’s teeth did not seem particularly sharp, they were just like human teeth, but his smile was feral. He looked like a wild beast, ready to rip Harry apart.

_ I don’t want to die. _

Silence filled the hall, but Harry could only keep staring wide eyed at Lord Voldemort’s snake-like visage and those red, red eyes. They glowed like hot coals, scarlet and bright. A water god with eyes like fire.  _ This _ was the face of the cruel god.  _ This _ was the face he would see while being devoured. How fitting. How fitting that Lord Voldemort looked just like the monster he was.

“What is it?” Voldemort asked in a mellow tone. “Do you not like the face of your new husband?” 

Harry’s rapid thoughts screeched to a stop. Husband. “What?” he asked hoarsely.

“Must I repeat myself?” Annoyance began to creep over Voldemort’s face.

Harry stood with his mouth agape as his brain eventually caught up. “My new husband?” 

“Yes,” began Voldemort irritatedly, “You are my sacrificial mortal husband in exchange for bringing your village out of drought.”

“I thought… I thought you were going to eat me,” whispered Harry with wide eyes.

The water god’s piercing gaze swept over Harry’s body. “In a way… I will.”

Harry backed away, his hands trembling. “I… I do not understand, my lord. I thought I was supposed to  _ die _ ,” said Harry, his voice pitching into something hysterical.

Voldemort only took steps forward for every step Harry took back. “You thought wrong.” He paused before continuing in a contemplative tone, “You are mortal and perhaps you will die in the future. Maybe you will become sick and die. Maybe you will annoy someone enough that they kill you. It is rather inevitable that you will perish. However, it will not be now and it will never be by my hand.”

Quiet sobs got stuck in Harry’s throat as the god pulled him back into a horrifying embrace. One of his long sharp talons traced a line down Harry’s cheek, following a damp salty trail. He quivered in the water god’s hold, fingers clenching tightly until his knuckles turned white.

Voldemort shushed him gently. “None of that. Are you not glad you will not be dying? I am letting you live for I am a merciful god,” the god breathed out. “Are you not grateful? You begged to be saved. You did not want to die.  _ I saved you. _ ”

Startled by this revelation, Harry blinked up at him with teary eyes. “You heard me?”

“How could I not? I am the Water God. You were in my domain. Not to mention your prayers were rather loud. Even if you were in a desert your desperation would have reached me.” Voldemort appeared to be amused by this with the way the corner of his lips quirked up.

Harry stuttered, “I… I didn’t. I didn’t pray.”

“Perhaps not on purpose.”

~~~

The letter rested innocently on his desk, surrounded by whimsical trinkets and a single glass bowl of lemon drop candies. On the front was his name signed in simple and neat, but obviously hurried print. Albus couldn't think of any reason why Severus would send him a letter so quickly after having just left his domain. What exactly was going on in the Water Realm?

A knock on his study door prompted Albus to look up from his contemplative state. "Come in," he said.

Through the door came a red haired man holding a strange object in his hand. "My lord!"

"Please Arthur, you know I prefer that you call me by my name."

"Of course, of course! I have something new to show you," Arthur said proudly with a gleam in his eyes. "I have modeled this new invention for our realm based on an ingenious item I found in the mortal world called 'glasses'!" he exclaimed. 

Albus smiled genially and set the letter aside. It could wait. "Please do explain."

Beaming, Arthur carefully placed the 'glasses' in front of the fire god. "In the mortal world, they fix pieces of glass to wire in order to correct deteriorating sight. Of course we have no need for that here," rushed Arthur before continuing to explain,"but I have charmed them! They will allow the wearer to see through certain glamours and illusions, which I'm sure will be immensely useful."

Albus picked up the halfmoon shaped 'glasses' and placed them upon the bridge of his nose. There seemed to be little difference between wearing them and not wearing them. "Perhaps a demonstration, Arthur?"

"Right! I will now place a glamour on myself." Arthur waved a hand over his face, shifting the features to look more rounded and full. 

Albus' polite smile grew into a pleased grin, for with the glasses on, he could see the glamour floating translucently in front of Arthur's true face. "How absolutely wonderful!" 

"Is it not? I have made more than one pair already," Arthur revealed before bashfully adding, "those are a gift for you, my lo—Albus."

"Ah, I will use them well."

Arthur smiled brightly and upon remembering some unfinished duties, said his farewell. He left in a flurry, likely having absentmindedly forgotten about something important in his enthusiasm.

The whole interaction took less than half an hour and had Albus’ weary heart feeling momentarily lightened. His good friend had always been a wonderful light breaking through his tough days, a little whirlwind coming in to showcase his new ideas then popping away to do something or another. He never had to worry about any deception from the bright man and could always expect something new and fun from him. 

The letter he had set aside caught his eye again and the warmth in his heart faded. Hopefully it wasn’t a dreadful matter and just some unexpected good news.

~~~

_ Please. Please. Please. Help me. Which way is up? Which way— Anyone, please help me. Save me. I don’t want to die. _

Those green eyes were in turmoil before he was even aware of Voldemort’s presence. He was  _ afraid of him. _ So, so very  _ afraid. _ He couldn’t help but think that the fear looked rather beautiful on him, but Voldemort would have thought Harry looked beautiful no matter what.

Voldemort paced his study. They would go through the wedding ceremony tomorrow. It was to be a short and simple affair. No guests were invited. Only those that were needed for the ritual were to attend and there were only three. They would be bonded through ritual, but the hard part was still to come. Harry was a stubborn boy and Voldemort was not someone who catered to others easily. It would be difficult, but not impossible to win the boy over. He just needed some time… and a little trickery.

The sun was slowly sinking behind the horizon. Voldemort smirked.

~~~

"Husband!" Harry shouted hysterically. "My husband is  _ the  _ Water God." Harry flopped onto the bed face down and screamed into a pillow. 

After his conversation with Lord Voldemort, Lucius promptly escorted him to the bedroom that was assigned to be his. Luckily he didn't have to share a room with his husband, at least for now. Did gods even sleep? Harry groaned loudly. It was a complete mess and Harry wasn't sure how he'd get out of it. Well, he most likely would not be able to get out at all considering who exactly was holding him captive. 

How was he supposed to be married to  _ that? _ He wasn’t expected to do anything more than get married was he? Harry had heard the rumours about wedding nights. How would they even...

In a flash, Harry bolted into a sitting position. He was male. Lord Voldemort was male also. "I am  _ not  _ a homosexual."

"Is that so? I doubt that," drawled an unfamiliar voice.

Harry jolted and whipped his head to face in the direction of the voice. The window was open and a silhouette of a man sat on the ledge, glowing with moonlight. "Who are— _ what? _ How did you get in here?" spluttered Harry. 

"Through the window," said the stranger, rising from his perch.

Green eyes darted from the window to the man who was slowly approaching him. "This is the third floor—"

"I know."

Harry didn't realize he was backed into the wall until the cold of the stone was penetrating through his thin robes and the man was just centimetres away. He finally got a good look at the intruder and froze. Red eyes. He had red eyes like—

"Forgive me, I seem to have forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Tom."

"Tom," Harry repeated incredulously, breaking out of his enchantment. "Who are you exactly and why are you breaking into my rooms?" 

"I simply wanted to see the face of my brother's new husband," Tom explained with a smirk.

"Brother…" Harry blinked rapidly. "You can't mean—"

"Lord Voldemort? It’s true that we are brothers," said Tom with a secretive smile, like he was withholding something.

At that point, Tom's face was right in front of his, those red eyes scrutinizing him. Harry felt immediately uncomfortable, all too reminded of the snake faced god who he was about to be married to. Which was worse? Being eaten by a monster? Or being married to one?

“What is this?” asked Tom in a murmur, his hand reaching up to trace a faint scar above Harry’s brow.

“It’s nothing… Just a scar from when I was young,” Harry answered with a frown, pushing Tom’s hand away roughly.

He couldn’t remember how he got it, but his aunt had said something about him being an idiotic child who fell in the lake. That he hit his head on the way down. How did he fall? Who saved him?

_ I don’t want to die _ —

“Harry?”

Harry’s gaze focused on Tom’s face. There was an odd expression there, something he couldn’t quite pick out. 

A frog croaked from outside and Harry jerked back, only to hit his head on the wall. He hissed in pain, clutching the back of his head. “Fuck.”

“Such crude words from a pretty face,” teased Tom.

Harry huffed in annoyance and pushed Tom away from him. “I don’t care whose brother you are, get out.”

Tom raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, I’ll go. It wouldn’t do for me to be caught alone with the bride in his bedroom anyhow.”

“Good.” Harry’s brow furrowed. “Wait. What do you mean  _ bride _ ?!”

Grinning mischievously, Tom hopped out the window.

They were on the  _ third floor. _

Harry rushed to the window and peered over the edge. Tom had disappeared. 

~~~

Late at night, Harry couldn’t help but to let his thoughts drift back to Lord Voldemort. He was to be married to a  _ god. _ What did that sort of thing entail? Would he become a god also? Or would he… would he stay human and wither away while everyone else remained unchanged? 

Harry had always thought being immortal was tragic, but somehow it was worse to be mortal in a world where everyone else would live forever. Would he be missed when he eventually died? Harry doubted it. To them, he was nothing more than a pet butterfly that died faster than fingernails grow and afterwards he would become a boring grain of sand in a sea of memories. 

As for the mortal world… there were few who would miss him there. He would become yet another nameless sacrifice in history. 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop whoop chapter three!

It was the day of the wedding and Harry wished he had asked for death instead. High quality silk made up his wedding robes, the fabric flowing down like water and embellished with embroidery and pearls. Sweat accumulated in his armpits despite the wide sleeves made of fabric so light they nearly floated. Harry was sure that these robes were worth more than the Dursleys’ home and everything in it and he was about to ruin them with his bodily fluids.

Lucius had come in early that morning to help him get dressed. At this point, Harry wasn’t sure if he was an advisor or a maid. He wisely didn’t say that to Lucius’ face though he most definitely wanted to. He managed to wrangle Harry's mess of waves into something resembling an elegant style. At the very least, it looked like it was on purpose and not just because his hair was as stubborn as Harry himself. 

A bride, Tom had called him. Looking at himself in the mirror, Harry could grudgingly see why. Despite being a thin, lanky boy, the cut of the robes softened up the sharp angles of his elbows and his scrawny shoulders. He almost looked like a girl. Almost. He was just a boy of sixteen. In a few moments he would be married to a god. 

Harry really missed his trousers.

There was no aisle to be walked down and no father to walk him down it. There were no eager guests, no flowers, no rings. There was only Harry and Lord Voldemort, a stone pedestal, and an unfamiliar man. Lucius had left him at the door and in his absence, Harry felt a bit lost.

“This is Argus Pyrites. He will be conducting the ritual for us,” explained the water god.

Green eyes locked onto the white ribbon on the pedestal and the ornate dagger and goblet beside it. “What do I need to do?”

Pyrites took the chance to speak up. “Put simply, your hands will be bound together with this ribbon and you will recite some vows.”

Panicked, Harry’s head shot up from his perusal of the objects. “Vows? I haven’t… I didn’t prepare any—”

Lord Voldemort quickly interrupted with a raised hand. “You were not required to. They are simple words that you only need to repeat,” he soothed. Gently, his thumbs rubbed over Harry’s knuckles.

When did the god’s hands take his, Harry was not sure. They were surprisingly soft on the palms, though scaly on the backs and cool to the touch. Harry couldn’t decide whether they were comforting or not. It didn’t help that he was still sweaty and he was sure that his palms were too.

“Okay,” Harry said simply, staring at the hands holding his. 

_ This is it. _

Everything passed by like in a dream. Harry was placid and quiet as Pyrites wound the white ribbon around their hands, tighter and tighter. A symbol of their vow, he had explained. The ribbon felt like it was burning into Harry’s skin. All throughout, Pyrites was chanting in a language Harry did not recognize nor understand. Perhaps it was the language of gods. Water from the goblet was poured over their bound hands in an act of purification. Finally they reached the vows.

“You need only repeat what I say,” Pyrites assured again, though Harry wasn’t worried anymore. 

He felt numb.

Harry could barely hear the words being said to him, but his mouth moved automatically to say them. 

Each word signed his life away. 

Pyrites held the ceremonial dagger above their hands. He was chanting something, but Harry wasn’t listening. Sunlight was shining on the clean metal, creating a shifting gleam upon the blade as Pyrites moved it downward.

Harry wondered if it would cut through his skin.

It didn’t. Instead it cut through the white ribbon which quickly unraveled and fell to the ground. 

Harry had expected some sort of epic climax, a display of magic or some sort of mystical occurrence. One would think that being married to a god would be more exciting. Nothing happened. Only that Lord Voldemort let go of his hands and cited some unfinished business as a reason to leave. Harry was left standing alone at the altar with Pyrites who was cleaning up the materials used. 

“That was anticlimactic,” Harry muttered to himself.

A laugh came from his right. “Not a very flashy wedding was it? I’m sure you’re glad that there’s no romantic wedding night.” Pyrites peered at Harry’s face with a teasing grin. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing?”

“No. Not at all.”

Harry had wanted to be married to someone he loved. A sweet girl who would fill their house with the sweet smell of baked treats and the laughter of children. He had long fantasized about raising a family with a pretty young woman. Only he would never achieve that dream. 

Why? Why did he always have everything good taken from him?

~~~

The preparations for the wedding ritual and the ritual itself took up most of the day. Harry spent the rest of the daylight wandering the long corridors of the castle. So far he had only explored the rooms in the wing his own bedroom was in. A few of the doors were locked, but some were open to him. One was the very bath that he’s used twice now. A few opened to informal sitting rooms and some lavish bedrooms. 

Eventually, Harry decided to venture out further. The sun had already set and the moon was out. Suits of armour cast ominous shadows over the stone floors and each corridor was lined with lit torches. Harry wasn’t sure who lit them for he had seen no servants so far, but brushed it off as being something common. He knew an old woman who used to work as a maid in a manor house and she always told him that servants were not to be seen nor heard. Something the Dursleys made sure he knew as well.

As he passed an alcove, a hand shot out and grabbed him by his sleeve. Harry tried to scream, but a large warm palm covered his mouth before he could even open it. 

“Be quiet, it’s just me,” hissed a familiar voice.

It was only Tom. Harry did not relax at all and struggled in Tom’s hold. Finally his elbow was at the right angle and was able to roughly jab back into Tom’s ribs. Tom groaned and let go of Harry. 

“What is  _ wrong _ with you?” Tom complained, rubbing the spot Harry’s elbow had so viciously attacked. “Have you ever considered offering your elbow to be a knight’s sword?”

Harry spun around to glare at Tom. “What is wrong with  _ you? _ Why are you sneaking around in the dark abducting innocent people?”

“I was only preventing you from screaming and alerting the guards. I wanted to talk to you, but I was sure you’d start yelling like you are now.”

“I wouldn’t yell if you had only approached me like a normal person!”

Tom winced. “Calm down. You’re so very loud, do you ever speak quietly? You don’t want your husband to find you cavorting with his brother, do you?”

“Cavorting?  _ I am not _ —”

Tom covered his mouth again though muffled yelling could still be heard. In the blink of an eye, Harry found himself halfway out the window and staring down to the river three levels below. Only the hand on his mouth and Tom’s fist in his hair prevented him from toppling over. “If you do not stop yelling this instant I will toss you out this very window,” he threatened quietly.

Harry fell silent.

“Good. I prefer you like this. See, if you are nice, I will be nice,” Tom crooned, jerking Harry’s head back slightly so Tom could press their cheeks together. “Now, I will remove my hand from your mouth. You will  _ not _ raise your voice at me.”

Harry nodded, his heart in his throat as he watched the fast flowing river. If he wasn’t dead the moment he hit the water, he would die from being battered against the sharp rocks below the surface. 

Tom slowly uncovered his mouth and shifted his hand to Harry’s hip. “Don’t scream,” he warned.

Harry opened his mouth to give a scathing reply, but they both fell forward and any sound was choked back. His hands scrambled for purchase, but there was nothing as they plummeted towards the river. Squeezing his eyes shut tight, Harry braced for impact. It never came. One eye opened at a time to see them hovering just above the water. Tom’s hold on him had adjusted to having both arms wrapped around Harry’s waist. 

“We’re… not dead?”

Tom’s warm breath brushed past Harry’s ear as he replied with a laugh, “No.” 

Anger flared up inside Harry. He was going to kill Tom.

“Remember that I am the one keeping us from falling in that river.”

Harry quickly deflated. “I’m still angry at you.”

“I know.”

They both went quiet for a long moment. It might have almost been romantic if Harry hadn’t been considering murder still. Not to mention this was his husband’s  _ brother _ . Nothing could ever come of it, unless Harry wanted to die sooner rather than later. Tom could be hurt too and no matter how much Harry currently hated Tom, he didn’t want Tom to suffer the kind of punishment he was sure would come. Lord Voldemort did not seem the type to be merciful towards such a major slight. Even towards his brother.

“While this is nice, I actually wanted to show you something else,” said Tom, breaking the silence.

“I want to go back to my room,” Harry complained.

“That’s too bad.” 

They began to float up and Harry grasped onto Tom’s forearms tighter and tighter the higher they rose. Harry’s nails dug into the pale flesh and he wanted to kick and scream, but he knew if he struggled Tom would probably drop him. 

“If you let go, I will come back and haunt you for eternity,” Harry gritted out.

Tom only laughed.

They soared high until Harry felt like they were among the stars. Somehow he expected it to be cold, but considering they were in the realm of the gods, things most likely didn’t work quite the same as on Earth. 

“Look down,” urged Tom.

Harry took a glance below them and gasped. Beneath them lay a blanket of shimmering clouds. Harry hadn’t even realized that they had flown so high. It was odd that they shimmered like that, but they looked like they were adorned with stars. Or… were those actually stars? Harry tilted his head back to look at Tom incredulously.

“Are those what I think they are?” 

“Yes,” Tom answered with a grin. “Look at the stars with me, Harry.”

They were beautiful. Harry watched the glittering space below them, allowing his emotions to calm and his mind to go quiet. It was nice. Almost like… a date. It was a bad thought to have when  _ Harry had just gotten married a few hours ago _ , but Tom was undeniably attractive, even with his mean streak. If Tom had been his husband instead, it would have been easier for Harry to fall for him, he thought. He winced at the traitorous thoughts and threw them away. There was no use thinking like that when he had no power to change his situation. 

Everything was silent save for the wind rustling their robes. They didn’t speak. Harry hadn’t changed out of his robes since that morning and it was a bit disconcerting to be in one’s wedding attire while in the arms of another man. He decided not to think about it any longer.

“Thank you,” Harry grudgingly said after a while when the silence started to become too much.

“You are very welcome.”

Then, the starry clouds below them parted. Harry squinted as he caught sight of something even further down past the clouds. Odd. It was… his village. Wide green eyes flickered between Tom’s face and the town. 

“That’s my… that’s my home,” Harry breathed.

Greedily, his eyes drank in the sight of his hometown. It was nighttime, but some people were still wandering about. They looked tired and hungry. The ground still cracked and dry. Nothing had changed at all from since before Harry was sacrificed. Harry’s breath stuttered. It hadn’t rained? He was sacrificed for rain. He married Lord Voldemort so it would rain. Why didn’t it rain? Red hot fury surged back up in him.

“He lied. He said he would send rain to my village.  _ He lied. _ ”

Tom was watching him with a guarded expression. “Why are you upset? Those are the same people who sent you to die for some superstition. They sacrificed you so they could live. You are only a mere child and they thought you would be a fine sacrifice. They’re horrible and selfish—”

“I know!” Harry interrupted with a choked voice. “I know. But Tom there are  _ children _ there. Innocent children. They don’t deserve this.” 

Tom sighed. “Your bleeding heart will be the end of you someday.”

“I have to go back. I have to talk to him  _ right now. _ ”

“No need.” Tom’s warm thumb wiped below Harry’s right eye. 

Harry’s brows furrowed. There was a wetness there that Harry hadn’t noticed. When did he start crying? A single salty drop clung to Tom’s finger in an unnatural sphere. Harry’s wide gaze flickered from the tear to Tom’s concentrated face.

One flick of Tom’s hand and the teardrop fell to the ground below. 

~~~

Mrs. Figg felt something wet on her cheek. She looked up to see grey clouds gathering above the town. In a few seconds, the pattering of rain surrounded her.

“It’s raining!” Someone cried.

Multiple more yells filled the air as the rain fell more heavily. Everyone stumbled out of their homes to marvel at the miracle. Families were hugging and crying as their prayers were finally answered.

Mrs. Figg smiled sadly. “Thank you, Harry.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's a slightly shorter chapter than the others since I couldn't find a good place to cut off without making the chapter waaay too long. Next chapter will be posted next week! I most likely won't have much of a regular schedule so apologies in advance.

Harry finally rose from bed late in the afternoon. The night before had been draining in many ways and Harry fell asleep the moment Tom dropped him back in his room. But one thing was for certain. Tom had made it  _ rain _ . Harry supposed that came with being the water god’s brother. They must have shared similar powers. Which brought Harry’s thoughts to contemplate why Voldemort became the Water God and not Tom. Was it because Voldemort was older? At least, it seemed to be that way to Harry. He wouldn’t presume to know how gods and their powers worked. Perhaps Voldemort became the god of water because he was more powerful.

In any case, Harry was grateful towards Tom. Naturally being the type of person he is, Harry felt obligated to thank the man since he did not do so last night. Tom had helped him no matter how reluctantly and how little he cared for the actual resulting outcome of his action. He had even seemed a bit angry on his behalf. Even though Tom had made him feel endangered multiple times in a span of a few hours, Harry wasn’t too mad. Alright, he was still a little bit mad, but only because he didn’t enjoy death threats very much.

Lunch had been on the table in his room where past meals had also appeared. Even though it was far past noon, the lunch still steamed like it was just placed there. How odd. He never heard anyone come in nor did he see them take away the finished dishes also. Today seemed to be a plethora of fresh fruits, baked pastries and savoury dishes like fried potatoes. Not feeling very hungry and much too eager to find Tom, Harry decided to forgo the meal and hope whoever prepared it was not too offended.

Opening his wardrobe, Harry was not very surprised to see it full of various expensive looking clothes. To be a spouse of a god, Harry was probably expected to wear things that reflected Lord Voldemort’s power. Even so, Harry wished for his simple shirts and trousers.

Selecting a less decorated navy robe, Harry donned the garment without issue. It fit him loosely around the body so Harry was not likely to overheat even with the tight sleeves. The Water realm seemed to be at a constant temperature of comfortably cool though, so Harry was not very worried. He knew he’d possibly be trekking the whole castle so he selected some comfortable looking boots. The leather was hard on the outside, but inside was soft. It was better than any old castoff of Dudley’s. Harry quickly laced them up before setting off with an apple in hand. Even if he didn’t feel like eating breakfast, Harry didn’t think he’d be able to walk very far around the castle if he did not eat  _ something.  _

Hours of wandering the castle did nothing but give Harry sore feet. Tom was nowhere to be found. Harry couldn’t even find a single living soul anywhere he ventured. Perhaps there was some important issue that everyone was tending to? Harry didn’t even catch sight of blond hair. He had expected to bump into Lucius at some point, but to no avail. He sighed. Lucius was his last hope aside from the water god and Harry wasn’t about to approach  _ him.  _

_ Especially not to ask after the whereabouts of his brother. _

There was a flash of movement to the far right of Harry’s peripheral. He jerked his head in that direction. A woman with curls wilder than his was fast approaching, crossing the bridge Harry had just crossed himself. Harry’s shoulders slumped in relief at the sight of another person, but immediately tensed again upon seeing the woman’s face. Her features were contorted in an expression that resembled rage.

“You!”

Harry wanted to run, but he didn’t. His feet were rooted to the spot. Somehow, he knew that he would not be able to outrun her. 

“Yes?” he squeaked.

The woman came to a stop right in front of him. She was so close her feet were almost right on his toes.

“You’re the mortal who is married to my lord?” she asked.

Harry wondered if he would die today. “Yes…” he answered reluctantly.

For a second she managed to look even more furious before her expression was schooled to a neutral frown. “My name is Bellatrix Lestrange. I am my lord’s Lieutenant.”

“Oh. It’s very nice to meet you, I’m Harry,” he offered. 

“I know,” she bit out.

Red bloomed on his cheeks. Of course she would know. She just said she was Voldemort’s lieutenant. He must have told her.

Bellatrix seemed to struggle for a moment before saying, “You may belong to my lord, but he does not belong to you.”

Harry was taken aback. “Okay…?” He wasn’t sure what to make of her statement. But if she was the water god’s lieutenant, then she must know Tom. “Have you seen Tom anywhere?”

Bellatrix stiffened. “Tom?”

“Yes, Lord Voldemort’s brother?” Harry was sure she knew Tom. 

“His brother?” She reiterated with an incredulous look. Suddenly she laughed. It was high and verged on the edge of uncontrollable. 

Harry took a step back.

“Tom is too busy to play with a mortal like you. Don’t waste your time,” she snarled.

Harry frowned and was about to argue, but the look on Bellatrix’s face shut him up. If he was to die, he’d rather not be ripped to shreds by a rabid dog masquerading as a lady.

“Bella, why have you not come to my study?” asked a cold voice.

Harry’s eyes widened and he spun around.

“Harry,” said Lord Voldemort calmly. He had an evaluating look on his face as if he was wondering why Harry was there.

What did he expect him to do? Waste away in his room? It was strange that Harry had not stumbled into him once in his hours of exploring, but perhaps if he was holed up in his study…

“Bella, leave us. Wait for me in my study,” he ordered.

Harry looked back to see Bellatrix prostrated on the ground. 

“Yes, my lord,” she sighed blissfully.

Slender fingers captured Harry’s jaw and tilted Harry’s head so he would be looking up into Lord Voldemort’s face instead of watching Bellatrix leave.

“Yes? What… What is it, my lord?” Harry asked nervously.

“We are married are we not?” Lord Voldemort asked calmly.

Harry gulped. “Yes.”

“Then you should call me by my name as I do for you, Harry.”

“Oh. I will do that… Voldemort.”

It was odd to call him by his name, though definitely less demeaning than referring to him as his lord. Even though Harry believed in the legends of the gods especially now with irrevocable proof in front of him, Harry did not like bowing down to a god. Definitely not a cruel one like Voldemort who demanded sacrifices for promises of rain. Promises he didn’t keep.

Harry couldn’t even yell at him for it. If he brought it up, Voldemort would most definitely ask how he knew. Then Harry would have to tell him about Tom and what they did. While it was most definitely innocent in Harry’s eyes, he didn’t know how Voldemort’s mind would twist it. 

“What have you been doing?” asked Voldemort in what sounded like faked politeness. His hand had yet to drop from Harry’s face.

Harry scowled and stepped away from the touch, feeling a tad defiant after remembering what he found out last night. “I’ve been looking around. It’s not like I have much else to do here. Meals are even just randomly dropped in my room.”

Voldemort observed him for a moment before saying decisively, “I will arrange for something. Do not wander outside the east wing too much. There are many dangerous things here.”

Voldemort turned to leave after that final warning and Harry would have let him go quietly, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. 

“Your brother Tom... “

The water god stopped walking, but he did not turn back around. “What about him?”

The air around Voldemort was odd. Not necessarily angry, but not content either. “Nevermind,” Harry said quickly, changing his mind. It would not be wise to accidentally provoke the god.

“I heard from the servants that you have not eaten breakfast or lunch. You  _ will  _ eat dinner.”

With that final command, Voldemort left with long, quick strides, robes whipping behind him. He cut a rather striking figure from behind as he looked relatively normal from that view. Except for the bald, scaly head.

Harry sighed deeply. 


End file.
